


Do it again

by Freckles_From_Brooklyn



Series: Preemptive Fix-it Fics because god knows we're gonna need it [34]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: M/M, Martin Blackwood gives the best hugs, Preemptive fix it, Some post canon but also some canon-adjascent, sorry I don't make the rules - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 11:34:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29716554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Freckles_From_Brooklyn/pseuds/Freckles_From_Brooklyn
Summary: Affection? Ew. ... Do it again.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Series: Preemptive Fix-it Fics because god knows we're gonna need it [34]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2132277
Comments: 2
Kudos: 62





	Do it again

Jonathan Sims didn’t have time for affection. Being the head archivist at the Magnus Institute was not an easy job, and he was a busy man. There were other things he could be doing, rather than wasting his time on touchy-feely bullshit. He rather wished his archive assistants would follow his lead, he thought as he watched them from his office. Tim, Sasha, and Martin all seemed to like physical affection. He’d always see Tim with his arm draped around Martin’s shoulders, or Sasha draped across Tim’s lap, or Martin giving Sasha a hug. It annoyed him, sure, but he let it go. He suspected that trying to make them stop would be an exercise in futility. 

“It’s like hugging a cloud,” Tim was saying as Jon entered the break room one day to refill his coffee. “Or— or like spooning a warm marshmallow!”

“Ugh, I know, right?” Sasha said. “It’s the best feeling ever!”

“What are you two talking about?” Jon asked as he waited for the coffee maker to fill his mug.

“Oh, hey, boss,” Tim said. “We were just talking about Martin. He gives the best hugs ever. Have you ever gotten a hug from him?” Jon scoffed. 

“No, I have not,” he said. 

“You should!” Sasha said. “Seriously, it’s an amazing experience!”

“No, thank you,” Jon said. “I have better things to do with my time, and I suspect you two do as well.” Tim just shrugged.

“Your loss, I guess,” he said. 

Jon didn’t get a hug from Martin until after the Jane Prentiss attack. Martin emerged, frantic, from the tunnels and ran to hug the first familiar person he saw, which happened to be Jon. Tim and Sasha had been right. The hug was perfect. Martin was soft and warm and the feeling of his arms wrapped around Jon’s shoulders just felt  _ right _ . Jon pushed those thoughts away. Martin was his employee, nothing more. He cleared his throat pointedly, and Martin let go, blushing. 

“S-sorry,” he stammered. “I-I just— everything happened so quickly, and I got separated from you and Tim and— and I found Gertrude—”

“You what?” Jon interrupted. 

“I found Gertrude,” Martin repeated. “Well, her body anyway. I-in the tunnels.” Jon nearly fainted on the spot.

After the Prentiss Incident, Martin seemed to get the idea that he had to take care of Jon. This was quite annoying at times, but not altogether bad. Martin would bring him tea and sometimes food, move him to the archive cot if he fell asleep at his desk, or lend Jon his jumper if he noticed that his office was particularly cold. And there were the touches. Soft, lingering touches on his shoulder or his arm or his hand or his back. Jon never knew what to make of them, but he could never get them out of his mind.  _ Just an employee, _ he’d remind himself sternly.  _ Nothing more _ . 

When he’d briefly left the Archives and gone to stay with Georgie, then later when Martin went to work with Peter Lukas, the unthinkable happened. Jon missed Martin. He missed the mugs of tea, the plates of biscuits, the comfortable jumpers. He missed the lingering touches and occasional hugs. He didn’t like Martin, he reminded himself. No, he didn’t like Martin. He  _ loved _ Martin. He  _ needed _ Martin. But Martin didn’t want to see him, and it hurt more than any injury he’d ever received.

Martin’s lips brushed the top of Jon’s head as his arms wrapped around his waist. Jon turned away from the fish he was frying to smile at his husband. 

“How about a real kiss, hmm?” he asked. Martin grinned and leaned in to fulfill his request, kissing Jon softly on the lips. Jon sighed contentedly and returned to his cooking while Martin rested his chin on Jon’s head. 

“You’re a lot like a cat,” he remarked. 

“Am I?” Jon replied. “How so?”

“You act like you don’t like affection, but you secretly love it,” Martin said. 

“I don’t like affection,” Jon insisted. 

“Liar,” Martin retorted. 

“I am not!” Jon said indignantly. “I don’t like affection in general. I like affection from  _ you _ . Specifically.”

“See, what did I tell you?” Martin said, chuckling. “You’re exactly like a cat.”

“Oh, shut up,” Jon grumbled, leaning up to kiss Martin again.


End file.
